Health & Wellness
Top Dentists 2016
We went looking for the most highly regarded dentists in Baltimore, and found 129 of them.
It’s that time again, when we unveil the results of our annual Top Dentists survey, offering a handy resource to readers who want to find a talented dentist they actually like. To arrive at our results, we surveyed more than 2,000 dentists in Baltimore and the five surrounding counties over the course of several months to find out where they would send a member of their own family. Since most dentistry is local, we then divided the winners by location. While we were sorting through the hundreds of peer recommendations in eight dental specialties, we ran across the story of a Baltimore man whose life was changed by a nearly 100 percent dental overhaul that is opening new doors for him, both personally and professionally. If you’re in the market for a new dentist, you’ve come to the right place.
Our Adviser
Dr. Herbert M. Mendelson
Our adviser on the Top Dentists peer-polling process this year was Dr. Herbert M. Mendelson. Mendelson, who has been on the Top Dentists list himself in the past, is an assistant clinical professor of advanced studies in oral implantology at the New York University College of Dentistry, was appointed to the dean’s faculty of the University of Maryland School of Dentistry, and maintains a private practice with his father, Dr. Harold Mendelson, in Owings Mills. He received a bachelor’s degree in economics from George Washington University and a DDS from the Medical College of Virginia, he completed a residency at the University of Pennsylvania, he holds a certificate in surgical and prosthetic oral implantology from the New York University College of Dentistry, and he is active in numerous professional organizations. Mendelson—who lives in Reisterstown with his wife, Wendy, their four children, and a labradoodle—is also an accomplished magician (he’s performed at the Bellagio in Las Vegas), a scuba diver, and, by his telling, “a mediocre golfer.”
The List
BY REGION
* most peer recommendations in his/her specialty
** tie for most peer recommendations in the specialty
*** most peer recommendations in all specialties
The Mouth That Roared
Thanks to a generous dentist, one man discovers the importance of a healthy smile.
By Ken Iglehart

Minch and Wallace Today and, Below, before procedure.
Coming from a country where paying out of pocket to have perfect teeth is considered an odd form of vanity, Scottish-born comedian and former host of The Late Late Show Craig Ferguson has this skit about the first time he came to the States and marveled at the Yanks’ flawless chompers and gleaming smiles.
“When I first came here in 1976, I was 13 years old, and the teeth were shocking,” Ferguson quips. “It took me a couple of weeks to actually realize that they weren’t all dentures.”
In America, though, people are judged by the appearance of their teeth. Open your mouth for even a split second and instant subconscious appraisals are made—about your education, your career success, even your trustworthiness.
But for professional photographer Donnell Wallace, it was no joke.
The 37-year-old Reisterstown father of three knows his problems started at birth—as a small boy, he was diagnosed with unusually weak tooth enamel. “My mother didn’t understand the seriousness of the problem, and nothing was done about it,” says Wallace. “But as I got older, my teeth started to break, even from just eating normally.” Finally, it got so bad he got a removable gold grille to hide the deterioration. “I wouldn’t leave the house or go out in public without having that grille in my mouth,” he says.
He knew, though, that his appearance was defining his relationships with others.
“I’d walk in a room and people would look at me like I was a thug or a drug dealer, like I wasn’t even supposed to be there,” says Wallace. “And when I tried to conduct business, I wasn’t getting that ‘business-like look’ from people.” That meant there were a lot of photography jobs he wasn’t being chosen for.
A friend convinced him he needed to do something about it, so he started talking to dentists. But their solutions were unaffordable: “They wanted to do a credit check and offered me payment plans, but I couldn’t afford an additional monthly payment,” he recalls. “And the amount they wanted was tens of thousands of dollars—pretty much all of it upfront before they’d begin any work.”
Then Lady Luck smiled on Wallace: That same friend, who ran a DJ company, was working the wedding of a dentist, and when told of Wallace’s problem, the dentist said he’d consider taking the case at no charge, with the exception of lab costs. And that dentist, Dr. Robert Minch, coincidentally practiced in Lutherville, not far from Wallace’s home. It got better yet, because the guy was really good: Minch was a dental-college instructor, had been practicing cosmetic and restorative dentistry for more than 30 years, and was among the best in the area, having been repeatedly chosen by other Baltimore-area practitioners as a top dentist in Baltimore’s annual peer survey.
“I agreed to meet with Donnell and do an exam to see the scope of the work,” says Minch, 58, who has a history of charitable work, including volunteering at free clinics and working on victims of domestic abuse. “I could tell immediately that this was a young man with big personality and horrible teeth. His upper front teeth were decayed and broken down, in part due to a removable gold grille that covered the teeth. He would need multiple root canals and several extractions, followed by crown and bridge work on all the upper teeth.”
Ten appointments later—one marathon sitting took six hours—Wallace had a virtually new mouth full of snow-white pearlies. He also has a changed life, though he admits there was a period of identity adjustment.
“It was strange at first, because I was popular with people who really knew me—and they thought of me as the black photographer with the gold teeth. But, suddenly, people who’d known me for years didn’t recognize me. They’d walk right past me. I’d have to say, ‘Hey, it’s me.’”
“But now people are letting me into their lives who never would have before. People are asking me into their homes, inviting me for meals, and introducing me to others. Everybody just looks at me differently. And when I speak, they listen. They didn’t listen before.”
So, we have to know, what would it have cost if Minch had charged the normal rate for all that work? Somewhere in the neighborhood of $30,000. That’s one more thing for Wallace to smile about.
Dentistry in the DNA

Did you happen to notice that Lutherville endodontist named John M. Hyson? He’s been on this list a lot over the years, and there’s a story behind the “III” after his name.
This month, the University of Maryland School of Dentistry will claim its fourth graduate from the same family, when Hyson’s son, 29-year-old John M. Hyson IV, graduates with his DDS. The run of Hysons at the dental school started in 1927, with the graduation of John M. Hyson, who also later served on the faculty in the anatomy department.
Not to be outdone, his son, John M. Hyson Jr., who got his DDS in 1950, wrote a book about the history of the dental school—Baltimore’s Own: The World’s First Dental School. And his son, of course, is the DDS on our list again this year, the father of his family’s latest dentistry generation. (To avoid the predictable confusion, father Hyson’s nickname in the family is “Johnny” and Hyson IV is “Jack.”)
“Having four direct generations graduate has never been done in the 175 years at the University of Maryland dental school,” says 64-year-old Hyson III. “It’s kind of like Ripken’s streak—it’s pretty hard to duplicate.”
So with a family tradition that’s so long in the tooth, would Mom and Dad have freaked out if Jack had decided to, say, join the circus instead? Johnny says no.
“I actually wasn’t the one that pushed him into dentistry,” says Hyson III. “I really credit my father with that. He was one of the founders of the University of Maryland dental museum and took Jack there when he was as young as 5. My father actually let him hold George Washington’s teeth—not too many people can claim that.”